Arabian Nights
by VeniceGroove
Summary: Setsuna’s powers allow her to travel anywhere in time but she’s spending it in ancient Egypt with a certain High Priest. When a Dragon’s wings are clipped, can she help him fly? SS


Arabian Nights

* * *

_Her pleasantly warm breath seemed to echo emptily in the barren stone dungeon. Her bare feet shuffled reflexively with discomfort upon the uneven limestone of the arid and dusty floor. There was the smell of despair, time, and death – scents she knew all too well. Setsuna's heart raced as she gazed upon the figure in front of her knowing her actions may break all rules of time, ultimately destroying it forever._

_Yet it comforted her. She wouldn't be alone as she transcended time, never aging and never feeling illness. While these truths were sufferable, she still felt loneliness, emptiness and cold. But Setsuna could never wish that upon anybody. It's what always stopped her._

_There he was, imprisoned by chains. The most beautiful cerulean eyes were crestfallen and nearly defeated. _

_His chains clattered slightly as he adjusted himself so he could gaze out a small opening at the night sky. He seemed to gaze lovingly at the heavens as they twinkled in response, wreathing its secrets in shadow. Her own planet - Pluto – was among them. _

'_He looks to the planets for answers'. Setsuna mused to herself._

_She gently sat down across from his prisoner cubby and watched him somewhat blissfully unaware. He was royalty – his posture, his stature, his robes, perfect chestnut hair and beautiful blue eyes would only belong to the noblest blue blood. He was the living embodiment of a dragon._

_Though it was forbidden, she was entranced._

_A door burst open with a clatter. Setsuna jumped. She hid herself among the shadows._

_Marching flamboyantly was a man half-naked, robed in a purple skirt and a long red coat. His hair was as white as the moon._

"_Still not talking?" He asked mockingly._

"_Never." The Dragon growled. His voice was just as powerful and growling as a dragon's jaw._

"_Have it your way." The white-hair turned and left, his guards playfully jabbing at the prisoner as they left._

_His eyes narrowed dangerously and he growled, yet oh so powerless._

_Dragons aren't meant to be in captivity._

* * *

Setsuna sat up, wide awake, gasping in short breaths. The dream had been as sensual as the numb pain in her stiff muscles. She shifted slightly but winced - the pain chased itself along her slender figure and curled into wakes at the tips of her toes. Another night of sleeping in a hammock had caught up to her. It was still better than the cold, damp fog at the Gates of Time. Memories of Time only haunted her gray-edged dreams, and haunt it did.

"Sets, are you going to sleep all day?" A deep voice echoed from their modest living room.

"No, Haruka, I'm getting up." she called back breathlessly.

Setsuna untangled herself from her bungalow and stood hurriedly. Her pajamas were damp with perspiration. She half-heartedly sauntered into the bathroom, grabbing her robe on the way. An open window allowed a warm breeze to play among the curtain. It was so warm and so early – not a good sign. A warm breeze just past dawn meant a heat wave had settled upon Japan.

"Michi-chan is just getting breakfast started."

She began the arduous task of brushing her hair. The greenish-black living waterfall pooled around her naturally bronze skin. She thoughtfully stroked the prongs through her mane while her mind immediately relived last night's dream. She wondered if the intricate design on the brush could even contend with the maze this dream might lead to. It was only she that was still plagued by reels of time, playing and replaying in her mind like a broken record. The Dragon's eyes had haunted her for weeks now; the affected her more than she would ever admit. The other senshi never had such dreams.

_It's just because you are the guardian of time. They don't mean anything. Time has moved on._

Somehow, she couldn't believe it. The feeling of need and help was so strong that time itself could not have been responsible for reincarnating such passion.

_Perhaps we could talk, if I paid him a visit._

Why? He has been dead for thousands of years.

_That doesn't matter. You have the power to bypass that._

What to say?

_I'll save you, my Dragon._

She stopped brushing; the trinket clattered to the floor with a hollow thunk. Her own responses frightened her. The Guardian of Time was not permitted to develop relations with time's jewels. His eyes alone were….impressive. If these… _nightmares_ kept occurring with such regular attraction, she didn't know if she could resist much longer.

Fate wasn't supposed to be this cruel.

She finished grooming hurriedly and joined her two housemates – Haruka and Michiru.

"Rise and shine princess." Haruka teased. The sandy-haired woman lay on a creamy divan, her body stretched our lazily and her head held itself in a casual fashion. She acknowledged the newcomer's sleepyhead status with a small quirk of her lips.

"The night has not been kind to me." Setsuna reprieved. Her melodic voice was guarded and forlorn.

"Are you still having that dream? The one in Egypt?" Michiru asked with genuine concern. She was hovering over a stove in the quaint kitchen, probably tending to the frying pancakes.

"Yes. The one in Egypt." Setsuna said forebodingly.

"Why don't you go see him for yourself? Sleep is always worth the risk." Michiru suggested. Even though the aqua-haired senshi of water was younger than Setsuna, she often acted like a mother to her – scolding her when she ate too many sweets or admonishing her for spending too many nights searching for answers to her insomnia torment in the stars.

"If I saw him, would I be thwarting destiny or aiding it? It hurts….my heart to see such a ….Dragon imprisoned, when it needs to be free. These feelings of attachment return each night, stronger than the last. I can't help but feel this is meant to be more than a dream. I won't act until I'm sure that I won't muck up Time. Eternal damnation isn't worth a little insomnia." the senshi of time reasoned.

"I can't tell you what to do. You know more than all of us; it must be your decision. Everything happens for a reason." Michiru mused. Without saying a thing, she closed the discussion by busing herself with pancake flipping.

Haruka listened with mild skepticism. The outers had constantly watched the inners prosper in mortal lives. But the outers had all things of certainty ripped away from them, leaving them incomplete. Was this necessary? Were they damned to love and lose for eternity? She could longing in each senshi's eyes as they watched Endymion and Serenity court and grow closer while they all pined for a similar love of their own. Now that opportunity knocked, could she live with herself is she allowed Setsuna to doom herself to loneliness?

Never.

"Setsuna. I think you should go." The blonde whispered, unable to make eye contact with the senshi of time's crimson eyes. "Visit him tonight. You don't have to confront him; watch from the shadows if you must. But get the full picture, because you deserve it."

"I don't know…."

"If the dream reoccurs tonight, promise me you'll oblige it and delve into the past. We only want you to have peace Sets. We've been fighting long enough." Haruka said grimly.

Setsuna smiled. "If that's what it takes. I'll do it for the senshi."

* * *

Night sparkled through the open window. Silvery moonbeams cast themselves upon a woman shifting through a small box on the floor. She removed a red rose and a sparkling photograph of a fairy-winged man. Endymion. She was first to meet Endymion before the other senshi. His level intellect and quiet wisdom were not unlike her own. She was sure they would be together had destiny not intervened and placed Usagi in divine status.

The rose's thorn pricked her index finger. A small bubble of blood formed upon her finger tip. Setsuna winced.

"Never again." She muttered.

The contents of the box were neatly replaced and slid under the hammock, which she climbed into for another night of feigned sleep.

* * *

High Priest Seto shifted slightly to allow the blood to circulate through his lower half. He had been prisoner in the stinking, festering dungeon for days now. He inwardly grimaced as another prisoner, a soldier of the Pharaoh, had been dragged in and carelessly imprisoned in chains not far away. Recollections of his own capture and imprisonment bitterly fluttered through his mind; how awfully he had been treated for his status. He could still feel the bruises on his weary face muscles.

His Pharaoh had deployed him with a small warband to suppress peasant rebellions. The man leading the uprisings was called Joseph, but if one met Joseph he was clearly not material to organize the strategic rebellions occurring simultaneously across the nation, which was unfortunately not prepared for such civil unrest. Although a member of the High Counsel, Isis, possessed futuresight, things like these were unpredictable. It was not possible to estimate all the actions and destinies of the citizens all at one time. Things were overlooked. Unfortunately for the government, a crucial detail was misplaced. Isis had barricaded herself in the palace for days gazing into the future for a remedy. She refused to eat or sleep until she fell ill from fatigue.

That left him, Seto, the Pharaoh's right hand, to solve the problem. He solved it alright. He solved it by getting ambushed then forced to surrender because the rebels began taking innocent civilians captive. But he learned so much. Should he escape, the resistance would be annihilated from the inside out. For starters, the man behind the rebellion was known as Bakura. Joseph Wheeler was his general. But that did him little good in this prison.

The High Priest winced as a blister ruptured on his swollen wrist. Damn. Where did he go wrong? He was traversing through a distant village. No one had ever seen his face as travel was rare. Nevertheless he took precautions; he moved cautiously, unsure of whom he would encounter. Carefully, the golden Millennium Rod was hidden from sight and his defining royal blue robes were discarded. He traveled as a commoner, though he despised every one of them. To him, none of them were worth his sight.

Then everything went wrong. A huge gust of wind, no doubt from a monster, blew sand everywhere so that Seto could no longer see. A hard blow to the back of the head forced him to stumble forward into a body which slid a linen sack filled with a sweet smelling powder over his head. Seto thrashed violently. His foot connected with two people but as he inhaled the powder his eyes drooped and his strength seems as if it were being drained through a straw. Finally, he was unconscious.

* * *

Setsuna turned feverishly in her hammock as her nightmares returned her to her own personal hell like a lost puppy.

_Two guards approached the cell and called to her Dragon prisoner. When he did not acknowledge them, they rattled his cell to antagonize him with angry and lewd slurs. He still ignored them, and when then entered the cell and began to physically harass him, Setsuna's dream consciousness decided to keep her promise with Haruka, and to enter his world. Enough was enough._

Garnet eyes snapped open. She summoned her time staff, muttered a foreign incantation, and with a flash of magnesium white light, Sailor Pluto was standing in the dungeon before the guards.

"You have no right to treat him so." She hissed while the guards merely snickered and examined her figure.

Setsuna snarled and swung her stick so that it bashed the one guard on the temple. His wiped the blood with a hand shaking from anger. He swore in his language.

"Be gone!" She ordered. These humans were no match for her. Setsuna began to thirst for a fight as she assumed the sick thoughts that ran through their heads. She had always been one of the less violent senshi compared to Mars, Jupiter, or Uranus; but no senshi was ever docile and safe. Each had their tempers and their powers which could all destroy in some way.

A guard seized a fistful of her hair but Setsuna smashed his hand with her staff causing him to withdraw. "I warned you!" She shouted, and her eyes turned from warm garnet to murderous red. The men's eyes widened and mouths fell slack as they watched the warrior prepare a dead soul scream, until their eyes and mouths had been burned off, and their bodies obliterated by the attack.

Setsuna panted with the efforts of her anger when she was finished. Nothing remained of the two guards, but her attack had been far from silent and subtle and she heard noises and clamor echoing in the dungeon. Other would be here soon and she did not feel like starting a massacre tonight. What was supposed to be observation turned into a hero campaign. She had already thwarted time and destiny enough for now.

The parched, throaty gasp of the prisoner startled her from her thoughts. His once bright blue eyes were staring her. She was not entirely sure if he believed himself to be in a dream or if he was really trying to piece together the puzzle that was Setsuna's appearance. Slowly she turned and bent down to his level. His eyes followed her body and then met her eyes. They both blinked. Setsuna reached out to stroke his face, which was rough with whiskers. Funny, she had expected it to be smooth as it was when he was in his princely position.

She heard cries from the guards as they approached the cell.

"I'll be watching." She whispered, and disappeared.

From that night on, Seto dreamt of the Senshi of Pluto.

* * *

Review! Tell me if I should continue this story!


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